Yeah, I put my title in all caps. Today is one of those days that I want to scream from the rooftops how I feel about this horrible disease that requires patients to endure horrendous treatment to try to beat it.  I hate it. We need to find a cure!

OK, rant over.  I tend to process stuff by blogging.  Since finding out about a month ago that my dad has lung cancer that has also traveled to his brain, I’ve been in denial, trying to wrap my head around this earth shattering news.  In fact, up until Wednesday, when Dad went through his first round of chemotherapy, it felt like a nightmare that I was just trying to wake up from.

A little bit of backstory. Twenty years ago, my mom was diagnosed with colon cancer.  Thanks to the miracle working power of God, she is not only in remission, but she is cancer free and has been for 18 years now.  On the flip side, my Dad has always been a picture of health.  He’s never sick.  I think that’s why this news has shaken me so much.  Dad is a caregiver and now he is forced to be the recipient of care.  It’s a crazy role reversal that the family is having to adjust to.

We were so optimistic that Dad was going to handle the chemo well when he got through Wednesday’s treatment with no issues. Then today happened.  He’s incredibly sick and in a lot of pain.  It kills me being 270 miles away during this time, but it is what it is and I know that I have a job to do here in Virginia.

If you happen to be reading this, say a prayer for my dad.  Doctors are optimistic about the success of the treatment, but as most cancer patients that I know can attest, many times the treatment is as bad as the disease.